


Where is my Mind? Pt. 2

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Series: Where is my Mind? [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry John, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plot advancement ensues. They come home and deal with the backlash from John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where is my Mind? Pt. 2

**Author's Note:**

> The aftermath of my blindfold fic (since a few of you were asking)  
> And yeah there's going to be more ;)

"Sam, get in the car...please? I'm sorry."  
Sam was walking along the side of the road like a lone hitchhiker, knapsack slung over his shoulder. Dean had the passenger side window of the car rolled down and was leaning over, trying to coax his brother into getting in. After their little fiasco at the party, Sam had stormed out and began walking away from the house without Dean. Dean slipped into the Impala and had been following him at his side for the last three minutes.  
"I'm walking, Dean."  
"Six miles, Sam? I don't think so."  
Sam didn't even glance at him.  
"Sam, I'm sorry."  
Sam finally stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother. "What're you sorry for, Dean?" Equal parts aggression and distress creased his brow.  
"I don't know... making you mad?"  
"You're ridiculous." He continued walking.  
"What?"  
"Do you even think about what you say before you say it?"  
Dean rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Just get in."  
Sam huffed and then slid in in defeat, shutting the door after him.  
"Thank you."  
"I didn't do it for you."  
The whole way home was dead silent. Dean kept looking over, assessing Sam's demeanor, but he just stared out the window with this blank expression on his face.  
After the first three miles, Dean piped up. "Say something, Sam."  
No answer.  
Dean slammed his fists on the steering wheel. He felt his body tense up, on edge. He bit the insides of his cheeks and stared ahead.  
It was only then that Sam looked over. "What do you want me to say?"  
"Anything. I don't know, man."  
"You're an asshole."  
Dean clenched his teeth and ground them together. "Look, I know, okay? I know that. I'm an asshole. No surprise there."  
Sam wrinkled his brow.  
"I'm just... the biggest... asshole," Dean trailed off, jaw tight, eyes never leaving the road.  
Sam's shoulders slumped a little, loosening up, and after watching Dean for a few moments he leaned up against the window and they drove home without another word.

xxx

"Where were you?" John boomed as soon as they entered their shabby little house, standing up from the sofa and putting his beer down. He was packing and cleaning a bunch of weapons that lay side by side on the coffee table.  
Sam made a bee-line for his and Dean's room right away, didn't even look at John, tossing his backpack down next to the couch along the way.  
"Don't walk away from me—" John started to follow him but Dean stood in the way, trying to ease his father's aggression. Sam slammed the door to the bedroom shut.  
"Dad, he's—he's not feeling well. I think he should rest, and we should leave in the morning."  
John eyed the door but then his gaze flicked over to Dean who stood right in front of him.  
"Are you kidding? I've got everything here all ready, I planned to leave at night so we would get there by noon tomorrow. I have a schedule worked out, Dean. He can sleep in the car." John pushed Dean aside, heading for the bedroom. Dean hesitated, then slapped a hand on John's shoulder. John spun around and eyed Dean up.  
"Look, we can leave as soon as the sun's up. I just think it would be best if—"  
"Just who do you think is calling the shots around here, huh? Sam disappears for _hours_ , then you go off god knows where to look for him, then _you're_ gone for another two and a half hours. I feel like I'm running a circus, here. What's it take to get you two to cooperate, huh?"  
Dean's heart was pounding. He couldn't believe he was actually challenging his father's authority. And just so Sam could have a proper night's rest. But he was doing it because he owed him that. It was the least he could do right now.  
John walked over to the coffee table and started to place the weapons in their proper casings. "Get your things. We're leaving. Now."  
"Dad, I really think—"  
"I won't say it again!" Dean swore he almost heard the walls shake with the reverberation of John's shout.  
Dean stood there, fists clenched at his sides. Sam's voice played in his head. _You just do whatever he says, don't you? Do you even have a brain of your own?_  
He knew he would regret it, but, after biting his tongue and after much consideration, he spoke up. "No."  
John stopped what he was doing. "What did you say?" He stalked over to Dean, eyes focusing on him.  
"I said no. We're leaving tomorrow morning, when we're both ready, when we're both—" A hard, stinging slap across his cheek tossed Dean's head to the side. All of the breath left his lungs and he almost toppled over. He clutched the wall behind him for support and held his stinging flesh.  
"You do what I tell you, because I'm your _father_. I'm the parent."  
Even with the strain at his lungs, Dean spoke softly but resolutely, the shake in his voice more than apparent. "No. We're a _family_. And families never force each other to do things they don't want to do."  
Dean's eyes held his father's for a long, silent moment. Then, when it was clear his point was made, Dean walked away toward the bedroom.

The room was dark when Dean went in. He shut and locked the door behind him. Sammy was sprawled on the bed over the sheets. He lay on his stomach, one leg bent up towards his chest and the other stretching out. He looked as though he had just plopped down as soon as he came in and decided to stay that way.  
Dean got into his own bed silently, grateful for the pillow under his head and the soft mattress.  
"Dean," Sam's small muffled voice came from the other bed. "Thanks."  
Dean huffed, but then a small smile twitched on the corner of his lips. "G'night, Sammy."


End file.
